Saturday, September 27, 2003
SATURDAY Sept 27
This was our second full week, here in Arusha. It feels much longer, as though we have been here for several months. We know each other by now, and have our routines worked out. I have an adapter for my western plug by now, know where the decent internet cafes are located, and they recognize me when I walk in.
The week has been intensive. By now I have dropped out of the daily group language classes and am working one-on-one with the head of the language program. The rest of the group are using a “competence based” instruction program which, as nearly as I can tell, is supposed to teach language the way children learn it. Look at pictures, repeat phrases and learn what they mean later. That wasn’t working for me, so my special program is going after the grammer and language structure first. I am a lot more comfortable with it, but find it hard to move from the lesson environment to the real world, where I forget everything. As in – What did I say my name was? Two members of the group have decided they were too far from home and left us, but the rest of us are all hanging in there.
Meanwhile, we have been getting all kinds of tips and instructions on how to teach classes and what to expect in Tanzanian schools. I’ve learned that I am slated to teach the highest level, about equivalent to our freshman program in a University. I have begged out of that, but am not sure I was successful. I fear may need to a lot of time to teach MYSELF chemistry before I try to teach students. We will see.
There are also special projects that we handle in small groups. We were all given questions to research and present to the larger group. My group was to find out about the Maasai beliefs about life and death – a fascinating project! The Massai believe that the first man (aka Adam) was given power over death, but he did not use it until his own son died. But God (Ngai, who is sometimes referred to as “she”) decided that because of his selfishness, the power would be refused. So now Adam and the Maasai nation all experience death. There is LOTS more – their proud culture is quite rich and complex. They revere cattle and believe Ngai gave all the cattle in the world to them. This frequently brings them into conflict with their non-Maasai neighbors who don’t realize that what they thought were their own cattle could be claimed by the Massai at any time. But even now, the Maasai are very identifiable – they are tall, slender, wear red robes and move with a graceful, regal flair.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch ... This week we had two practice sessions on preparing and presenting lessons. I handled both of them OK, but these are a far cry from the actual experience. I had my interview to discuss my preferences for placement after we complete our teaching internships here in Arusha. I said that I want to be part of a community and learn how the social system works here in Tanzania. But it is essential that I have access to the internet at least three times a week and that isn’t negotiable. For that reason, I’m pretty sure that I won’t be VERY far out in the bush, anyway.
I’ve taken to stopping in at the Police Officer’s Mess for a chance to study over a beer, before heading home where the TV is always on LOUD and their is continual commotion. My host (baba) likes soccer, and we watch games most nights. The front door is left open so the night watchmen can also watch the game through the door. And the sound is loud enough so they hear everything, too.
Today we got out of the compound early because a group of PC volunteers for environmental projects are coming in. It has been great to actually have some time to ourselves, and to be able to explore the town while stores and the post office are still opens. We will be alternating with the environmentalists at the compound now, because the Training Compound is not large enough for all of us. So while we are doing our local internship teaching, they will be getting the cross-cultural training stuff we have already had.
Hopefully, I will be able to be more consistent in making future postings to this diary. Stay tuned.
This was our second full week, here in Arusha. It feels much longer, as though we have been here for several months. We know each other by now, and have our routines worked out. I have an adapter for my western plug by now, know where the decent internet cafes are located, and they recognize me when I walk in.
The week has been intensive. By now I have dropped out of the daily group language classes and am working one-on-one with the head of the language program. The rest of the group are using a “competence based” instruction program which, as nearly as I can tell, is supposed to teach language the way children learn it. Look at pictures, repeat phrases and learn what they mean later. That wasn’t working for me, so my special program is going after the grammer and language structure first. I am a lot more comfortable with it, but find it hard to move from the lesson environment to the real world, where I forget everything. As in – What did I say my name was? Two members of the group have decided they were too far from home and left us, but the rest of us are all hanging in there.
Meanwhile, we have been getting all kinds of tips and instructions on how to teach classes and what to expect in Tanzanian schools. I’ve learned that I am slated to teach the highest level, about equivalent to our freshman program in a University. I have begged out of that, but am not sure I was successful. I fear may need to a lot of time to teach MYSELF chemistry before I try to teach students. We will see.
There are also special projects that we handle in small groups. We were all given questions to research and present to the larger group. My group was to find out about the Maasai beliefs about life and death – a fascinating project! The Massai believe that the first man (aka Adam) was given power over death, but he did not use it until his own son died. But God (Ngai, who is sometimes referred to as “she”) decided that because of his selfishness, the power would be refused. So now Adam and the Maasai nation all experience death. There is LOTS more – their proud culture is quite rich and complex. They revere cattle and believe Ngai gave all the cattle in the world to them. This frequently brings them into conflict with their non-Maasai neighbors who don’t realize that what they thought were their own cattle could be claimed by the Massai at any time. But even now, the Maasai are very identifiable – they are tall, slender, wear red robes and move with a graceful, regal flair.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch ... This week we had two practice sessions on preparing and presenting lessons. I handled both of them OK, but these are a far cry from the actual experience. I had my interview to discuss my preferences for placement after we complete our teaching internships here in Arusha. I said that I want to be part of a community and learn how the social system works here in Tanzania. But it is essential that I have access to the internet at least three times a week and that isn’t negotiable. For that reason, I’m pretty sure that I won’t be VERY far out in the bush, anyway.
I’ve taken to stopping in at the Police Officer’s Mess for a chance to study over a beer, before heading home where the TV is always on LOUD and their is continual commotion. My host (baba) likes soccer, and we watch games most nights. The front door is left open so the night watchmen can also watch the game through the door. And the sound is loud enough so they hear everything, too.
Today we got out of the compound early because a group of PC volunteers for environmental projects are coming in. It has been great to actually have some time to ourselves, and to be able to explore the town while stores and the post office are still opens. We will be alternating with the environmentalists at the compound now, because the Training Compound is not large enough for all of us. So while we are doing our local internship teaching, they will be getting the cross-cultural training stuff we have already had.
Hopefully, I will be able to be more consistent in making future postings to this diary. Stay tuned.
Sunday, September 21, 2003
FRIDAY SEPT 19
It has been hard to keep up this blog – I still do not have an adapter that allows me to plug in my computer to the Tanzanian electrical configuration. The largest electronics store in the area claims they “might” have an adapter in a week or so, which does not sound promising. I hope I can get somebody in the Peace Corps staff to get an adapter for me in Dar es Salaam and send it to me here. Meanwhile I am dependent on the Training Office to allow me occasionally to hook up to their only power strip that accepts western plugs.
A typical day, here in Arusha?
I really haven’t been sleeping very well – maybe it is just overlong jetlag, or maybe it is the crowd of dogs that begin barking every few hours through the night. When I wake up at night, I mess around with my short wave radio, hoping to catch the BBC to hear English, catch up on the news, and maybe hear some classical music. But in any case, I get up at 6:30 as it is getting light. We are very close to the equator, and daybreak and nightfall occur very rapidly, at 6:30am and 6:30pm. Then a quick pass through the bathroom to splash water on my face and brush teeth, then dress for breakfast at 6:45. Breakfast is a couple of eggs prepared different ways but usually hard boiled, with bread and peanut butter and sliced raw carrots, tomato and cucumber, and an unlimited quantity of chai. Chai is a tea laced with cardamom and sugar, with lots of milk. It is good, and my family is astonished that I do not add additional sugar to the chai. They like to turn it into a kind of sweet sugary syrup, and think that is the only way to enjoy it. If there were a national drink, this would be it.
By 7:15 I am ready to walk to work, and leave with Doreen, age 8. We walk hand-in-hand to her school, where she goes off with friends and I continue on to the PC compound, about a 40 minute walk. Doreen is cute as a button, a little timid, and clearly quite intelligent. She does very well in English, and I enjoy helping her with her homework in the evenings. Anyway - I would take a Dala-Dala the rest of the way if I weren’t using the walk for my exercise. Dala-Dalas are minivans used as buses. They cost 15 or 20 cents, and the object is to maximize revenue by stuffing as many people into the little thing as possible and then drive as fast as possible between stops whenever anybody waves at it. Riding a Dala-Dala is quite an experience. Imagine the old “how many people can you stuff into a Volkswagen” events and you begin to get the idea.
It is usually overcast in the morning, with maybe even some Seattle-type precipitation that people mostly ignore. That clears away by 10:00 or noon, and then there is bright sun and warm temperatures. The nights are cool – I sleep under a blanket every night and wear a sweater to start the day. It becomes very comfortable after the sun comes out, even wearing long sleeve shirts. We are at about the height of Denver, so the air feels a little thin and the sun is a little intense.
Our program at the PC compound is very tightly organized. The intensive language program is truly INTENSIVE, and extremely well prepared. We have about 3-5 hours of Kiswahili most days, interspersed with sessions on health, cross-cultural issues, maleria prevention, and lots of discussion about what we are experiencing and learning. The language classes are held in 11 bandas – little shelters with corrugated iron roofs – where instructors meet with us in 1 ½ hour sessions in groups of 4 or 5. The instructors are very impressive and competent. I am amazed at how much content we have covered. (Note that I said covered, not learned. I’m finding the learning thing to be a real challenge, but I’m doing my best to hang in there.) We have chai breaks both morning and afternoon, and are served an excellent buffet lunch with time for frisbee afterward before the afternoon sessions.
I find the group of volunteers quite impressive. They are mostly fresh out of college, are bright and outgoing, with tons of energy and enthusiasm. The lack of jobs in the US influenced quite a few of them in their decision to join the PC. Others wanted a few more years to think about their future before committing to a career. Did I mention before that there is one other guy here in his 60’s – also a chemist – along with a small number of people in their 30s and 40s. But I am still the oldest in the group – oh well.
We leave the compound at 5:00. Unfortunately, most stores and the post office also close at 5:00 and most internet cafes close at 6:00, so we miss out on doing much in the town. But there is still time for a little internet contact, then maybe catch a beer before going back to our homes for dinner, some discussion, language study, and bed.
My family prepares a hot bath for me every night. My home has indoor plumbing but, like most homes, lacks running water. So the bath is a large bucket of hot water placed in the bathtub, with a dipper. The process is to wet yourself down, soap up, and then rinse off. It works, and is more effective and pleasant than I ever would have expected. For a place as dusty as Africa, the people are very clean. The house is mopped up a couple of times a day, the ground outside the house is swept every morning, and people take at least one bath a day. Well, judging from the Dala-Dala experience, maybe not EVERYONE.
We begin student teaching next week, and are due to meet our mentors-instructors tomorrow. I learned that I will be teaching Organic Chemistry to the Form 6 class at the Arusha-Maru school. That is basically equivalent to senior high school, I think. My anxiety level jumped into high gear immediately. We have been hearing that we cannot expect more resources than blackboards in most cases, and the students copy EVERYTHING you write on the board. And they probably do not understand English very well. And the typical class size is 50. This will indeed be quite and experience.
It has been hard to keep up this blog – I still do not have an adapter that allows me to plug in my computer to the Tanzanian electrical configuration. The largest electronics store in the area claims they “might” have an adapter in a week or so, which does not sound promising. I hope I can get somebody in the Peace Corps staff to get an adapter for me in Dar es Salaam and send it to me here. Meanwhile I am dependent on the Training Office to allow me occasionally to hook up to their only power strip that accepts western plugs.
A typical day, here in Arusha?
I really haven’t been sleeping very well – maybe it is just overlong jetlag, or maybe it is the crowd of dogs that begin barking every few hours through the night. When I wake up at night, I mess around with my short wave radio, hoping to catch the BBC to hear English, catch up on the news, and maybe hear some classical music. But in any case, I get up at 6:30 as it is getting light. We are very close to the equator, and daybreak and nightfall occur very rapidly, at 6:30am and 6:30pm. Then a quick pass through the bathroom to splash water on my face and brush teeth, then dress for breakfast at 6:45. Breakfast is a couple of eggs prepared different ways but usually hard boiled, with bread and peanut butter and sliced raw carrots, tomato and cucumber, and an unlimited quantity of chai. Chai is a tea laced with cardamom and sugar, with lots of milk. It is good, and my family is astonished that I do not add additional sugar to the chai. They like to turn it into a kind of sweet sugary syrup, and think that is the only way to enjoy it. If there were a national drink, this would be it.
By 7:15 I am ready to walk to work, and leave with Doreen, age 8. We walk hand-in-hand to her school, where she goes off with friends and I continue on to the PC compound, about a 40 minute walk. Doreen is cute as a button, a little timid, and clearly quite intelligent. She does very well in English, and I enjoy helping her with her homework in the evenings. Anyway - I would take a Dala-Dala the rest of the way if I weren’t using the walk for my exercise. Dala-Dalas are minivans used as buses. They cost 15 or 20 cents, and the object is to maximize revenue by stuffing as many people into the little thing as possible and then drive as fast as possible between stops whenever anybody waves at it. Riding a Dala-Dala is quite an experience. Imagine the old “how many people can you stuff into a Volkswagen” events and you begin to get the idea.
It is usually overcast in the morning, with maybe even some Seattle-type precipitation that people mostly ignore. That clears away by 10:00 or noon, and then there is bright sun and warm temperatures. The nights are cool – I sleep under a blanket every night and wear a sweater to start the day. It becomes very comfortable after the sun comes out, even wearing long sleeve shirts. We are at about the height of Denver, so the air feels a little thin and the sun is a little intense.
Our program at the PC compound is very tightly organized. The intensive language program is truly INTENSIVE, and extremely well prepared. We have about 3-5 hours of Kiswahili most days, interspersed with sessions on health, cross-cultural issues, maleria prevention, and lots of discussion about what we are experiencing and learning. The language classes are held in 11 bandas – little shelters with corrugated iron roofs – where instructors meet with us in 1 ½ hour sessions in groups of 4 or 5. The instructors are very impressive and competent. I am amazed at how much content we have covered. (Note that I said covered, not learned. I’m finding the learning thing to be a real challenge, but I’m doing my best to hang in there.) We have chai breaks both morning and afternoon, and are served an excellent buffet lunch with time for frisbee afterward before the afternoon sessions.
I find the group of volunteers quite impressive. They are mostly fresh out of college, are bright and outgoing, with tons of energy and enthusiasm. The lack of jobs in the US influenced quite a few of them in their decision to join the PC. Others wanted a few more years to think about their future before committing to a career. Did I mention before that there is one other guy here in his 60’s – also a chemist – along with a small number of people in their 30s and 40s. But I am still the oldest in the group – oh well.
We leave the compound at 5:00. Unfortunately, most stores and the post office also close at 5:00 and most internet cafes close at 6:00, so we miss out on doing much in the town. But there is still time for a little internet contact, then maybe catch a beer before going back to our homes for dinner, some discussion, language study, and bed.
My family prepares a hot bath for me every night. My home has indoor plumbing but, like most homes, lacks running water. So the bath is a large bucket of hot water placed in the bathtub, with a dipper. The process is to wet yourself down, soap up, and then rinse off. It works, and is more effective and pleasant than I ever would have expected. For a place as dusty as Africa, the people are very clean. The house is mopped up a couple of times a day, the ground outside the house is swept every morning, and people take at least one bath a day. Well, judging from the Dala-Dala experience, maybe not EVERYONE.
We begin student teaching next week, and are due to meet our mentors-instructors tomorrow. I learned that I will be teaching Organic Chemistry to the Form 6 class at the Arusha-Maru school. That is basically equivalent to senior high school, I think. My anxiety level jumped into high gear immediately. We have been hearing that we cannot expect more resources than blackboards in most cases, and the students copy EVERYTHING you write on the board. And they probably do not understand English very well. And the typical class size is 50. This will indeed be quite and experience.
Monday, September 15, 2003
Last night, THURSDAY SEPT 11 was my first night in Africa and I am blown away. I did not really sleep well, although our hotel is extremely comfortable and very well furnished. Of course there is all the excitement of being here in the first place, and the night sounds are different, somehow. There is a mosquito net over the bed, and I thought I would try it out, as I would probably be using these in the future. But as soon as I turned out the light, there was this mosquito bzzzzzZZZzzzzz. This is a VERY disconcerting sound, especially since we got all these warnings about malaria over the past few days, and it was impossible to tell whether that guy was INSIDE or OUTSIDE of the net. Since it never got louder, I finally decided it was outside, but the experience was repeated several times during the night, and it was VERY disconcerting every time.
So about 4:30 am I decided to try out my short wave radio. It did bring in both english and swahili stations. But the strongest station was the BBC, and of all things, it was a live concert by my countryman, Bobby McFerrin. He was conducting the Vienna Philharmonic, in a concert from the Albert Hall in London. Listening to this from here in Tanzania just fries my head. What a world! What a village!
SUNDAY SEPT 14
Well, the Peace Corps told us about safety and cultural differences we can expect, taught us how to say our names in Swahili – Ni na itwa Lee – and yesterday our families came to the school to meet us and take us to our new homes for the next ten weeks. Our MOMENT OF TRUTH!!!
I was lucky. My family lives in Arusha, not too far from our training center. Christopher Malamsha was a math teacher in the secondary school here for several years, and now is a student at a University for an advanced degree. He is home on vacation now, but will be leaving in two weeks. He is fluent in English, and his attractive wife, Sarah, also knows considerable English. His two daughters, Maureen and Doreen, 8 and 3, are just as cute as buttons, and very friendly.
Last night we spent time meeting each other and exchanging pictures of our families. I also shared my pictures from Quetzeltenango Guatemala, where I stayed with my Mayan family for two weeks. Christopher was amazed at how similar Guatemala and Tanzania are. The many indigenous people in Guatemala are much like the various tribes in Tanzania. And he found the pictures of the Mayan religious practices very much like those here.
The weather is beautiful today, again. Clear, sunny and dry. The temperature is just a little warm, but with the low humidity it is not at all uncomfortable. Today Christopher took me to his “grocery store.” It turned out to be the little bar that he likes. They have a pool table there, and his friends had a lively competition going. It is off the main street, and the location gave me a feel for this new country of mine. The streets are – I guess you could say, UNIMPROVED. That translates as unpaved, with frequent mounds and pits. It is dry here, so the dirt surface includes an inch or two of powdery dust. Whenever a car goes by, it is followed by a big cloud of dust, and any breeze stirs up dust devils. There were a few goats roaming the street. The whole thing reminds me of our romanticized idea of the US Wild West. The frequent Land Rovers, with their whip radio antennas on the front fender and heavy grilles protecting their headlights, look entirely in-place here. Except that the flat landscape includes banana plants and bougainvillea and other tropical species.
The American idea of informality and dressing down are not appreciated here. Only tourists and very young children are wearing shorts – you don’t even see many T-shirts. You do see jeans, but slacks are much more common. Women wear long skirts. That has been a rather new experience for many of my Peace Corps group.
So about 4:30 am I decided to try out my short wave radio. It did bring in both english and swahili stations. But the strongest station was the BBC, and of all things, it was a live concert by my countryman, Bobby McFerrin. He was conducting the Vienna Philharmonic, in a concert from the Albert Hall in London. Listening to this from here in Tanzania just fries my head. What a world! What a village!
SUNDAY SEPT 14
Well, the Peace Corps told us about safety and cultural differences we can expect, taught us how to say our names in Swahili – Ni na itwa Lee – and yesterday our families came to the school to meet us and take us to our new homes for the next ten weeks. Our MOMENT OF TRUTH!!!
I was lucky. My family lives in Arusha, not too far from our training center. Christopher Malamsha was a math teacher in the secondary school here for several years, and now is a student at a University for an advanced degree. He is home on vacation now, but will be leaving in two weeks. He is fluent in English, and his attractive wife, Sarah, also knows considerable English. His two daughters, Maureen and Doreen, 8 and 3, are just as cute as buttons, and very friendly.
Last night we spent time meeting each other and exchanging pictures of our families. I also shared my pictures from Quetzeltenango Guatemala, where I stayed with my Mayan family for two weeks. Christopher was amazed at how similar Guatemala and Tanzania are. The many indigenous people in Guatemala are much like the various tribes in Tanzania. And he found the pictures of the Mayan religious practices very much like those here.
The weather is beautiful today, again. Clear, sunny and dry. The temperature is just a little warm, but with the low humidity it is not at all uncomfortable. Today Christopher took me to his “grocery store.” It turned out to be the little bar that he likes. They have a pool table there, and his friends had a lively competition going. It is off the main street, and the location gave me a feel for this new country of mine. The streets are – I guess you could say, UNIMPROVED. That translates as unpaved, with frequent mounds and pits. It is dry here, so the dirt surface includes an inch or two of powdery dust. Whenever a car goes by, it is followed by a big cloud of dust, and any breeze stirs up dust devils. There were a few goats roaming the street. The whole thing reminds me of our romanticized idea of the US Wild West. The frequent Land Rovers, with their whip radio antennas on the front fender and heavy grilles protecting their headlights, look entirely in-place here. Except that the flat landscape includes banana plants and bougainvillea and other tropical species.
The American idea of informality and dressing down are not appreciated here. Only tourists and very young children are wearing shorts – you don’t even see many T-shirts. You do see jeans, but slacks are much more common. Women wear long skirts. That has been a rather new experience for many of my Peace Corps group.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
MONDAY September 8
My first day in the Peace Corps! It felt a lot like going to summer camp. Everybody arriving with huge suitcases, all energetic and enthusiastic about meeting the other volunteers – a long line at the registration desk, processing papers and forms. Then a long orientation session that will continue tomorrow – safety, what the Peace Corps is all about, what expectations and anxieties do we have about our program, what our schedule will be.
There are 67 of us, all headed to Tanzania as teachers in different subject areas. There is one other guy who appears to be as old as I am, and a couple of middle aged folk, but the vast majority are kids straight from college. Quite a few seem to be glad to be postponing a career decision for another two years. The group includes a couple of asians and I think two African Americans, but overall, we are a very clean-cut, heart-of-America group.
The program director was stressing what a special group we are to have made the commitment to be here. By their statistics, in 2002 they received some 97,000 inquiries about the Peace Corps, of which some 9,000 requested application forms. More and more dropped out during the application, interview and invitation phases until finally only some 3,000 or so actually entered the program. So here we are, the survivors.
Surprise: We are not going to Dar es Salaam after all. Our 3-month training will be in Arusha, which is in the north near Mt Kilamanjaro. Somehow, my guess is that this is only the first of many changes that will occur as we get underway.
TUESDAY Sept 9
Lots more orientation today. We are beginning to know each other, and interact together. We were split into six groups today and given a bunch of case studies today, and put together skits to illustrate the cultural problems and potential reactions.
Tomorrow we must get up, pack, eat something and be in the lobby by 7:00 to head out to a clinic for multiple injections and then go on to the airport for our loooong flight to Tanzania via Amsterdam. This IS a good group to be with.
THURSDAY Sept 11
2:28 am EST but I’m lost on what time it is here at Schiphol airport in Amsterdam. Our group is between flights here, ON THE WAY to Kilimanjaro and Arusha. The frustrating thing has been my feeble attempts to contact Myrna from Washington. I think I have all thumbs when it comes to electronics. I couldn’t get systems at the hotel to give me internet access, or only at exorbitant cost. I think (hope) I got a message off to Myrna from the library in Washington, but they have strict 15 minute time limits there, and I spent most of my time downloading messages FROM her.
Their facilites here at Schiphol are tremendous. I am getting everything done that I want. I rented an office, and it is equipped with complete excellent computer, printer, fax and phone facilities. $18 for half an hour. For all this, not bad!
My group is rather subdued after the 7-hr flight from Washington. But I think a cup of coffee with bring most of us back to life.
My first day in the Peace Corps! It felt a lot like going to summer camp. Everybody arriving with huge suitcases, all energetic and enthusiastic about meeting the other volunteers – a long line at the registration desk, processing papers and forms. Then a long orientation session that will continue tomorrow – safety, what the Peace Corps is all about, what expectations and anxieties do we have about our program, what our schedule will be.
There are 67 of us, all headed to Tanzania as teachers in different subject areas. There is one other guy who appears to be as old as I am, and a couple of middle aged folk, but the vast majority are kids straight from college. Quite a few seem to be glad to be postponing a career decision for another two years. The group includes a couple of asians and I think two African Americans, but overall, we are a very clean-cut, heart-of-America group.
The program director was stressing what a special group we are to have made the commitment to be here. By their statistics, in 2002 they received some 97,000 inquiries about the Peace Corps, of which some 9,000 requested application forms. More and more dropped out during the application, interview and invitation phases until finally only some 3,000 or so actually entered the program. So here we are, the survivors.
Surprise: We are not going to Dar es Salaam after all. Our 3-month training will be in Arusha, which is in the north near Mt Kilamanjaro. Somehow, my guess is that this is only the first of many changes that will occur as we get underway.
TUESDAY Sept 9
Lots more orientation today. We are beginning to know each other, and interact together. We were split into six groups today and given a bunch of case studies today, and put together skits to illustrate the cultural problems and potential reactions.
Tomorrow we must get up, pack, eat something and be in the lobby by 7:00 to head out to a clinic for multiple injections and then go on to the airport for our loooong flight to Tanzania via Amsterdam. This IS a good group to be with.
THURSDAY Sept 11
2:28 am EST but I’m lost on what time it is here at Schiphol airport in Amsterdam. Our group is between flights here, ON THE WAY to Kilimanjaro and Arusha. The frustrating thing has been my feeble attempts to contact Myrna from Washington. I think I have all thumbs when it comes to electronics. I couldn’t get systems at the hotel to give me internet access, or only at exorbitant cost. I think (hope) I got a message off to Myrna from the library in Washington, but they have strict 15 minute time limits there, and I spent most of my time downloading messages FROM her.
Their facilites here at Schiphol are tremendous. I am getting everything done that I want. I rented an office, and it is equipped with complete excellent computer, printer, fax and phone facilities. $18 for half an hour. For all this, not bad!
My group is rather subdued after the 7-hr flight from Washington. But I think a cup of coffee with bring most of us back to life.
Monday, September 08, 2003
SUNDAY September 7
The last day before the start of my Great Peace Corps Adventure. All the stuff I might want to take is laid out in my bedroom, and how much I ACTUALLY take will be determined by what fits into the suitcase, rucksack, backpack and computer case.
This morning I went to church and received good wishes from many friends. Ken shared his own Peace Corps history with me again. Mike and Sharon talked about how much they liked their trip to Tanzania. Gayla insisted that I visit Zanzibar. Paul applauded me in front of the congregation for my plans, and called me “one of the good guys”. Then Mike Dorn spoke to me after the service. He is a professor at Temple University who teaches a survey course on geography and is always looking for ways to make his course “relevant” to his students. He suggested that his students and I might correspond by email. This is a fabulous idea, and the Peace Corps has a whole program to encourage this sort of thing, called the World Wise School Program. I like the idea that I will be having this contact, and sharing my experience of Tanzania.
I was thinking about my summer, during the service. Working with the Clean Air Council, then visiting China and the Olympic Penninsula and finally Guatemala. But there really has been a unified cause for all this commotion. All of it is related to family. Just ... my family is so scattered!
But now, getting ready for the Peace Corps and AFRICA, I am feeling nervous and anxious to meet the other people in my group.
The last day before the start of my Great Peace Corps Adventure. All the stuff I might want to take is laid out in my bedroom, and how much I ACTUALLY take will be determined by what fits into the suitcase, rucksack, backpack and computer case.
This morning I went to church and received good wishes from many friends. Ken shared his own Peace Corps history with me again. Mike and Sharon talked about how much they liked their trip to Tanzania. Gayla insisted that I visit Zanzibar. Paul applauded me in front of the congregation for my plans, and called me “one of the good guys”. Then Mike Dorn spoke to me after the service. He is a professor at Temple University who teaches a survey course on geography and is always looking for ways to make his course “relevant” to his students. He suggested that his students and I might correspond by email. This is a fabulous idea, and the Peace Corps has a whole program to encourage this sort of thing, called the World Wise School Program. I like the idea that I will be having this contact, and sharing my experience of Tanzania.
I was thinking about my summer, during the service. Working with the Clean Air Council, then visiting China and the Olympic Penninsula and finally Guatemala. But there really has been a unified cause for all this commotion. All of it is related to family. Just ... my family is so scattered!
But now, getting ready for the Peace Corps and AFRICA, I am feeling nervous and anxious to meet the other people in my group.
Friday, September 05, 2003
THURSDAY September 4
Writing from the airport in Houston, on the way back from Guatemala. I’m feeling torn, with much regret in leaving the warmth of Myrna’s family and the fabulous time that she and I had together, enjoying each other and thinking about the time after my Peace Corps service. And at the same time... I was reading about Tanzania in my Lonely Planet Guide. Actually, Tanzania sounds like Guatemala in a lot of ways, but with the advantage of being somewhat less affected by the Cold War.
Myrna and I had planned to visit Coban for a couple of days, but the beauty of Coban is in the countryside and since Guatemala is in the rainy season this didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. So we drove to Antigua on Tuesday and found a marvelous hotel...
****FLASH****
Announcement! My connecting flight to Philadelphia via Memphis has been diverted to Austin and so ain’t no way I can get to Phila tonight via Memphis. I was at the ticket desk before they completed the announcement, and so got myself re-booked on a direct flight to Phila, but had to dash big-time to get to the other gate. I made it though – in time to spend an hour on the taxi-way waiting for clearance to take off. No matter, it is better than a long layover in Memphis. However, it is HIGHLY unlikely that my suitcase made the transfer along with me. Well, that is a problem for Philadelphia, not now.
So, back to this hotel in Antigua. All the rooms were around a beautiful courtyard with an old stone fountain and lots of flowers. High wooden ceilings, thick stone walls, lots of carved wood furniture, big bed (!). We spent a lot of time talking over margueritas in a quiet restaurant – most of the restaurants there are quiet in the middle of the week – and then had coffee and a game of chess on the way back to the hotel.
On my last night in Guatemala, Myrna’s family brought food to make it another fiesta. Her parents (Carlos still enjoys correcting my Spanish), Fernando, Julia, and Carla with Geraldo and little Lucia. It is the tradition to give little going-away gifts, and surprisingly, they included gifts for my sisters, too, and even for Ellen. Really sweet! My gift was a wind chime. Terra cotta bell with little birds and traditional houses – casitas – attached with cord. Very nice, but not exactly in line with my idea of packing light.
Writing from the airport in Houston, on the way back from Guatemala. I’m feeling torn, with much regret in leaving the warmth of Myrna’s family and the fabulous time that she and I had together, enjoying each other and thinking about the time after my Peace Corps service. And at the same time... I was reading about Tanzania in my Lonely Planet Guide. Actually, Tanzania sounds like Guatemala in a lot of ways, but with the advantage of being somewhat less affected by the Cold War.
Myrna and I had planned to visit Coban for a couple of days, but the beauty of Coban is in the countryside and since Guatemala is in the rainy season this didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. So we drove to Antigua on Tuesday and found a marvelous hotel...
****FLASH****
Announcement! My connecting flight to Philadelphia via Memphis has been diverted to Austin and so ain’t no way I can get to Phila tonight via Memphis. I was at the ticket desk before they completed the announcement, and so got myself re-booked on a direct flight to Phila, but had to dash big-time to get to the other gate. I made it though – in time to spend an hour on the taxi-way waiting for clearance to take off. No matter, it is better than a long layover in Memphis. However, it is HIGHLY unlikely that my suitcase made the transfer along with me. Well, that is a problem for Philadelphia, not now.
So, back to this hotel in Antigua. All the rooms were around a beautiful courtyard with an old stone fountain and lots of flowers. High wooden ceilings, thick stone walls, lots of carved wood furniture, big bed (!). We spent a lot of time talking over margueritas in a quiet restaurant – most of the restaurants there are quiet in the middle of the week – and then had coffee and a game of chess on the way back to the hotel.
On my last night in Guatemala, Myrna’s family brought food to make it another fiesta. Her parents (Carlos still enjoys correcting my Spanish), Fernando, Julia, and Carla with Geraldo and little Lucia. It is the tradition to give little going-away gifts, and surprisingly, they included gifts for my sisters, too, and even for Ellen. Really sweet! My gift was a wind chime. Terra cotta bell with little birds and traditional houses – casitas – attached with cord. Very nice, but not exactly in line with my idea of packing light.
Monday, September 01, 2003
FRIDAY August 29, 2003
Suddenly it all became clear, how Myrna and I can stay in Panajachel forever, living lives of quiet dissipation on the beautiful shores of Lago Atitlan. The way was made clear for us. There we were, lazing along Calle Santander and enjoying the colorful population and the general ambiance when we were accosted by a tall, friendly, braided blond woman of about 50, on her bicycle. She said she was Swiss, but she has been living here for 30 years – clearly a part of the early group of hippies who settled here. Her husband is a painter, and she sells bread and peanut butter cookies along C. Santander. Three-grain bread, no less. We bought a loaf, and it really WAS good.
So there it is!!!! I figure I should have no trouble becoming a bad painter who can’t sell anything, and Myrna can support us by selling bread to all the passing tourists in town.
Actually, we were thinking what a great place Lago Atitlan would be for a big family gathering – there are houses and bungalows here that rent by the week. The highlight, for those of us who want to prove how strong and brave we are – definitely count me in on that score – would be a climb to the top of one of the volcanoes around the lake. They say the climb takes about six hours, and that the view from the top is spectacular. Considering that my Peace Corps program is still a complicating factor for the next couple of years, this would look like planning for Summer 2006. Egad!
Suddenly it all became clear, how Myrna and I can stay in Panajachel forever, living lives of quiet dissipation on the beautiful shores of Lago Atitlan. The way was made clear for us. There we were, lazing along Calle Santander and enjoying the colorful population and the general ambiance when we were accosted by a tall, friendly, braided blond woman of about 50, on her bicycle. She said she was Swiss, but she has been living here for 30 years – clearly a part of the early group of hippies who settled here. Her husband is a painter, and she sells bread and peanut butter cookies along C. Santander. Three-grain bread, no less. We bought a loaf, and it really WAS good.
So there it is!!!! I figure I should have no trouble becoming a bad painter who can’t sell anything, and Myrna can support us by selling bread to all the passing tourists in town.
Actually, we were thinking what a great place Lago Atitlan would be for a big family gathering – there are houses and bungalows here that rent by the week. The highlight, for those of us who want to prove how strong and brave we are – definitely count me in on that score – would be a climb to the top of one of the volcanoes around the lake. They say the climb takes about six hours, and that the view from the top is spectacular. Considering that my Peace Corps program is still a complicating factor for the next couple of years, this would look like planning for Summer 2006. Egad!
